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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29406030">made up my mind (‘bout the future)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wandering_Crow/pseuds/Wandering_Crow'>Wandering_Crow</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Merlin (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Albion zine fic, Arthur is doneTM, Canon Divergence, Gen, Merlin and Mordred friendship, Merlin is not that much of an idiot, Mordred Redemption, Mordred deserves better, fanzine fic, this was really fun to write</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 10:29:22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,716</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29406030</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wandering_Crow/pseuds/Wandering_Crow</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“You don’t trust me,” the same intense eyes looked at him from under a fringe of dark hair, although this time the voice was spoken rather than resounding in his mind. “I was just an angry child,” damning, always damning, portraying Merlin’s faults and failings in simple words, the dedication he offered to Arthur above all, the people he had sacrificed, the mistakes he had made all laid bare in simple words that did not even have anything to do with the King. “Will you resent me for the rest of my life? Your life?” </p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Merlin &amp; Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Merlin &amp; Mordred (Merlin)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>42</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>made up my mind (‘bout the future)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span><em>“You don’t trust me,”</em> the same intense eyes looked at him from under a fringe of dark hair, although this time the voice was spoken rather than resounding in his mind. <em>“I was just an angry child,”</em> damning, always damning, portraying Merlin’s faults and failings in simple words, the dedication he offered to Arthur above all, the people he had sacrificed, the mistakes he had made all laid bare in simple words that did not even have anything to do with the King. <em>“Will you resent me for the rest of my life? Your life?” </em></span>
</p><p>
  <span>The question echoed in his mind, the accusation so powerful the more Merlin found himself unable to answer in the negative, to tell Mordred that he would not, that he could see the difference between the child that had looked at him with venom in crystal blue eyes and the young man who was now pleading, almost begging, asking for understanding from one of the two people that could grant it to him. Arthur had done so already, making Mordred a knight, allowing him close to him, so close that Merlin bit his lip to the point of drawing blood daily the more he watched the sparring Mordred and Arthur partook in, the more he thought about all the possible scenarios that could end with Arthur’s demise. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But he also asked it from Merlin and the warlock would not, could not, grant it to him, no matter how much Mordred pleaded and yearned, no matter how many looks filled with remorse were shot his way across the sparring field, the young man’s gaze so open, laid bare as if to show Merlin the truth behind his words. </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘Emrys, please’ </span>
  </em>
  <span>this time the voice echoed in his mind, dragging along the name Merlin had come to resent, the fate that had been placed on his shoulders against his will. With each of Mordred’s pleas the dragon’s voice rang louder in Merlin’s ears, the knowledge that the young boy would be Arthur’s doom, the fear that came alongside it, nay the dread that he could barely keep under control. How was he to offer Mordred understanding when each time he caught the younger man’s gaze, his imagination conjured images of Arthur being felled in a variety of scenarios.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Merlin. Merlin. Merlin,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>a voice called urgently, bringing him back to reality, his mind swirling in a mix of fog and darkness, dull pain coursing through his body as the incessant shaking of his body was bringing him back to alertness. “MERLIN!” The desperate yell jolted him back to reality, the pain hitting him more powerfully now that he was alert, the throbbing of his temples coupled with the ache of his body leading him in a state of confusion. He could not remember where he was or what had happened. “You’re awake. I was worried, you would not wake no matter what I tried.” The young voice at his side helped him focus better, the memories of the day making their way back through the pain and confusion. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mordred?” Merlin asked, unsure, the other’s presence still a mystery until at long last he remembered. He had wandered away from camp, trying to find the herbs Gaius had asked for before Arthur decided it would be time for them to move again. It was merely a hunting trip, nothing out of the ordinary, a moment for the King to take a breather from the daily duties of Court and immerse himself in the thrill of the hunt as he had done in the past. These moments were so few and precious that Merlin had tried his best to ensure nothing spoiled Arthur’s peace. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He had wandered off, deeming it was safe to do so. The forest embraced his presence, brimming with the sounds of wildlife and the shuffle of leaves, the crack of twigs in the wind and the hoot of owls; it was more peaceful than ever, a heaven of undisturbed tranquility where he too could shake away his troubles, his toils and his fears. Or so he had thought… Soon after that the world had gone dark and nothingness had wrapped him in its dark caress. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Merlin, I am so relieved you’re awake!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There truly was a world of relief in Mordred’s words, the worry on the young knight’s face too stark to be anything but true. As he came back to awareness more and more, Merlin could make sense of their surroundings, a small ledge of stone barely hanging above a steep ravine. Slowly he remembered the ground giving way under their feet, the rocks rolling down with a sharp screech, the clank of Mordred’s armor jarring as they were dragged further and further down. Merlin had lost consciousness as he had rolled down, banging his head against the hard ground; he did not know how long he had lost awareness, how much time had passed, but he could see they had stopped their fall in the nick of time, their bodies barely fitting on the small slab of stone that jutted out of the hill above sharp drop. Another step further and there would have been nothing that could have been retrieved of them, not even their bones. It was a sobering thought. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was so worried. I had not thought,” Mordred did not offer an explanation to what he had not thought but the words were unneeded. He had not thought Merlin would wake. He had not thought they would survive. He had not thought he would be able to return to Arthur with words of Merlin’s demise even if he had made it alive and Merlin had not. All those thoughts were plain to see on the young man’s face, as open as a book, earnest and scared and still too painfully young. Sometimes Merlin forgot how much younger the boy was, how ludicrous it felt to be afraid of a man for the words a scared and hurt child had hurled at him in a time of peril. </span>
</p><p>
  <span><em>‘You could have left me here,’</em> Merlin could accuse. <em>‘You could have tried to save yourself. You could have tried to climb back up, back to Arthur, lied about my whereabouts.’</em> The voice of the dragon and the visions of the crystal swim in his mind, each louder than the other, more damning, warning caution, berating him for every single second of silence, every single moment where he raises Mordred’s hopes of not seeing him as anything but the ultimate doom that would bring an end to Arthur’s life.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And yet; he knows the nature of the crystal’s visions. Knows the twisted words the dragon spins. Knows better than to fully believe both, to take what he had been told and shown at face value. Accepting their truth as set in stone might simply be the catalyst to a self-fulfilling prophecy, ultimately painting himself as Arthur’s doom. If there is the slightest chance, if he can avoid the mistakes he had made with Morgana when it comes to Mordred… it’s a double-edged blade, a frightening choice, but ultimately, he dredges from the depth of his soul a determination he cannot trust in, but rather feels is right. He could not change his mind now that doubt had taken roots in his soul and spread like ivy, twisting and turning until it showed Merlin all that Mordred had tried to show him before and he had elected to ignore. He would not change his mind. Not when the boy is looking at him with fear and doubt and apprehension, not when he is keeping as much distance as the slab of stone allows. Not when he is yearning, painfully so, yet he remains silent and watches Merlin as if he has already signed his doom. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I am fine, Mordred. Slightly bruised, but I have a thick skull. Can’t afford not to have one when living in the presence of Arthur for so long.” The smile he offers is still shallow, wobbly, unsure, but genuine and it seems to ease the tension in Mordred’s frame, his shoulders slumping and his eyes glowing as if he had received a blessing from the Goddess herself. “Thank you for caring for me.” He adds and this time the smile he offers is true and full, slightly sheepish for having gotten them in this situation, but determined nonetheless. “Let’s try to make our way back before his Prattiness comes barging in thinking he has to fight some foul monster and finds us lounging on a rock in the forest.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’d hardly call this lounging, Merlin,” Mordred contests with a short, bitten back laughter and rises to his feet carefully, keeping his body as a shield between the dangerous edge and Merlin himself. Another gesture that the warlock cannot pass as anything but genuine. </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘Thank you, Emrys,’ </span>
  </em>
  <span>this time the voice echoes in his head, soft and filled with gratitude, nothing like the accusing voice in his dreams. It makes Merlin doubt his decision even less, makes him trust a little more. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There is nothing to thank me for. And for what is worth, I am deeply sorry for all that had transpired between us before.” He had wanted to interfere, had wanted to act, but he had been too much of a coward to do so. Now it is time to no longer be afraid. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His eyes flash molten gold, dazzling in their brilliance, the aura of controlled and coiled power wrapping around them both in a careful embrace, lifting their feet gently from the ground and pulling them up, ever up, a soft float that finally settles them back to solid ground. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They are slightly battered and bruised, the herbs long lost in their fall, but they are alive and have reached an understanding that they probably would not have in any other situation. Before Merlin has the time to say something more, to engage Mordred in a conversation about their shared past, a voice hollers from the ticket of the woods and an irritated Arthur Pendragon bursts through the foliage.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Merlin! Where the hell have you been? What kind of nonsense did you drag Sir Mordred into?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Well, at least some things never change, Merlin supposes. And he would not want them to either.</span>
</p><p></p><div class="ms-editor-squiggler">
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